Setting the Date
by GirlonaBridge
Summary: What are you doing Saturday 23rd of August at three o'clock in the afternoon? Rachel and Sean thought that was when they were getting married but somebody may have forgotten to check their diary.


"**What are you doing Saturday the 23rd of August, three o'clock in the afternoon?" (Series 2, episode 5)**

**Either there is one heck of a twist coming or somebody didn't check their diary before they wrote that line. Seriously, go look at a diary. ;) Happy August everybody and here's hoping this event doesn't actually take place!**

* * *

'So when's this wedding then?'

They were all sat around the long table in The Grapes again. Friday evening, a great result closing the case they had been working for three weeks and the rare spell of hot weather they had been having all contributed to the team's high spirits. Gill's syndicate were all there, though the boss herself hadn't made it over yet. Rachel had dragged Sean along again to add to the party. By the third round, Kevin had exhausted his surprisingly extensive arsenal of traffic cop jokes and turned instead to his next source of entertainment.

'So when's this wedding then?' he asked with one eye on Rachel, sitting half-way down the table chatting to Janet. Winding up two people at once, bonus! Plus, Kevin thought he might have more luck actually annoying Rachel. Sean was proving very boring; he shrugged off all the comments with a smile and just continued with his pint. At the question, Sean looked thoughtful for a moment, then his eyes brightened.

'Saturday twenty-third of August, three o'clock. You should know that, being as how you're the best man an' all.' He looked disapprovingly at Kevin who huffed in return.

'Well I would know that, if you bothered to tell me.'

Sean grinned. Score. 'I just did.'

'When d'you get that organised? It's a bit soon isn't it?' Kevin was pouting, Sean was grinning, neither of them noticed that Pete was looking puzzled.

'Coupla weeks ago and no, I don't think so. What's the point in hanging about?'

'How d'you get it sorted out so quick though? Thought you had to book weddings way in advance, like years or something.'

Across the table, Mitch and Lee had started earwigging. Now they glanced at each other and shared a conspiratorial smirk. 'How come you know so much about weddings Kev?' Lee asked, all mock interest.

Kevin looked blank. 'I don't really.'

'Sounds like you're quite the expert to me, don't you agree Mitch?'

'Mmm,' Mitch nodded. 'Something you're not telling us Kevin?'

'No.' Kevin's face could not have got any blanker if you had asked him to define antidisestablishmentarianism. Down the table, his rising voice caught the attention of the women.

'What's this?' Rachel asked, sensing a wind-up in the air.

'Kevin's giving us the benefit of his experience on wedding planning,' Sean contributed.

'Oooh Kevin!' Janet's face lit up. 'You dark horse.'

'Yeah Kev, have you done this before?' Lee leaned over to him.

'What? No.' Kevin's protests were totally ignored.

'So what do you think Kevin, peach satin or pink frills for the bridesmaids?' Rachel started out pretending to be deadly serious but cracked on the 'pink frills.' The table exploded and she finished her sentence amid hoots of laughter. Kevin hid his sulks in his pint.

'Oi!' Janet gave Rachel a gentle elbow in the ribs when she had enough breath to speak. 'You're not putting me in peach or pink lady.'

'Who said I'm having you as me bridesmaid?' Rachel smirked but Janet was unperturbed.

'Well who else would do it?' She pulled a hideous face and ducked as Rachel made to bat her over the head. The two friends continued bickering and the fellas turned back to their pints. There was a moment of silence at their end of the table which was broken by Pete.

'Y'know, Sean, I don't think the twenty-third of August is a Saturday.'

...

Three heads swivelled in unison, three pairs of eyes stared at him. Pete shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, never one to enjoy breaking bad news.

'Eh?' was Sean's initial response.

'It's just that the Premiership starts again that week. I've got tickets for Old Trafford for the Saturday, I'm sure it's the twenty-fifth.'

'Nah mate.' Sean leaned back in his chair dismissively. 'You must have got it wrong. It was definitely Saturday the twenty-third.'

Pete continued to look apprehensive. He was a methodical man, with a good memory, trained to remember details as they all were on MIT. Well, Kevin excepted, but then Kevin was the exception to many rules. He could picture those tickets in his mind's eye, Man U. vs. Fulham, and he was sure he was right about the date. Sean's breezy confidence was very powerful, however. You would think a man would be more concerned about a cock up in his wedding plans, if there was even the slightest possibility. Doubt crept into Pete's mind. Could he have got mixed up? Dubiously, he glanced over at Mitch and realised that he was also looking thoughtful.

'Actually Sean, Pete might have point.'

'What?' Sean had already gone back to mucking about with Kevin; he glanced up from their game of flipping beer mats.

'The date,' Mitch continued. 'Our youngest's birthday is the thirtieth, that's a week later. I'm sure it's not on a Saturday cos the missus was on at me about getting time off to take them all out for the day.'

'You must have got mixed up,' Sean scoffed.

'Or you did.' Kevin couldn't resist. He raised his eyebrows in admonishment when Sean turned to frown at him.

'Has anyone got a diary?' Lee asked. The men all looked blank.

'Janet might,' suggested Kevin loudly.

'Janet might what?' Hearing her name she turned, even as Sean shot Kevin a warning glare. The two women stared slightly as the question was met with silence and shifty eyes.

'What's up?' Rachel demanded, fixing her eyes first on Kevin, then on Sean.

'Err... nothing love,' Sean began. 'Just...' He was saved, temporarily, by by the figure who stalked through the door at that moment.

'Boss is here!' Mitch cried with relief. Rachel and Janet had to turn to greet Gill and much eye rolling went on behind their backs, most of it directed at Kevin. 'What?' he mouthed indignantly. The others shook their heads.

...

'So,' Gill began as soon as she had a full glass of red wine in her hand. 'What's happening?'

'We were just talking about the big event that's happening in a couple of weeks.' Janet made big eyes at Rachel and chuckled as her friend blushed.

'Oh yes, the wedding of the century.' Gill raised her eyebrows. 'Are you planning on inviting any of us?'

Rachel swallowed the urge to get all defensive and instead answered civilly. 'Yes. We're not going all fancy though so you'll probably just get a text.'

'When is it exactly?' Gill sounded genuinely interested. 'I thought you would have wanted time off.'

Rachel was pleasantly surprised by her tone. She still half-expected to get bollocked for something every time Gill looked at her. 'It's on a Saturday so I didn't think I'd need it,' she explained. 'Err... which one is it again Sean?'

'The twenty-third.' Sean was still full of confidence although Mitch, Pete and Lee exchanged worried glances. Kevin simply grinned.

'Of August?' Gill frowned.

'Mm hmm.' Rachel watched her boss's face. Was she deliberately stringing her along, trying to make her nervous? Like when Rachel had had to ask her what she'd said in that drunken phonecall.

'Saturday the twenty-third of August?' Gill looked from Rachel to Sean for clarification.

'Yeah, why?' Rachel demanded.

'There's no such date.'

Rachel shook her head like a swimmer with water in their ears. 'What are you talking about?'

'I was just talking to the CPS about dates for court appearances for the lovely little lot we charged today. That's why I'm so late. One of the ones we're fixed for is the twenty-third of August. It's a Thursday.' Gill pulled out her phone as she spoke and started pressing buttons at lightning speed. 'I can show you.'

She held it out. Rachel stared at the screen, the page of a calendar, not really taking it in. Gill's finger flicked across it twice.

'There you see, Saturday the twenty-third of August doesn't exist, not until 2014 anyway.'

Very slowly, Rachel turned to look at her fiancé. 'Sean. What the hell on earth is going on?'

…

Sean had that look on his face, the one that very small children get when you tell them that they don't get presents on everyone else's birthdays as well as their own. Confused. Disbelieving. Outraged. Defensive. The whole table was staring at him now. Kevin with barely disguised mirth, the other lads with sympathetic concern, Gill with bird-like curiosity; Janet was looking worried and Rachel, Rachel was looking about ready to murder him. Uh oh.

'He definitely said Saturday the twenty-third.'

'Who said?' Rachel's voice could have cut glass. Sean put his hand on his pint defensively, just in case.

'The bloke at the church.'

'Church?' Janet looked confused. She turned to Rachel. 'I thought you said you were getting married at Oldham Register Office.'

Rachel gaped at her for a second. 'Yeah so did I,' she managed eventually. 'What church?' She turned back to Sean. 'Since when did you go to church?'

'The one round the corner from yours,' Sean explained as if it was the most natural thing in the world. 'Thought it would be nice. Pretty building, needs a bit of work done but I thought it'd look lovely in the wedding snaps.' He completely missed the way Rachel was looking at him until he finished speaking. Eventually, he realised that she was staring fixedly at him as if he was an even a bigger knob than Kevin, her eyes nearly standing out of her head.

'What?'

Rachel's eyebrows notched a shade higher and she shook her head at him, moving her mouth soundlessly for a second.

'Yes Sean. It needs a _bit_ of work. It's been closed for the last ten years.'

Janet's eyes went huge with horror and even Gill was starting to show some concern. Beside Sean, Kevin was still smirking away, clearly unaware of the way a woman's wrath can so easily shift to the next nearest target, but the other lads were already starting to look as though they thought hiding under the table might be a good idea.

'No,' protested Sean, shaking his head. 'It was definitely open the other week when I went round there. I spoke to the priest fella.'

'Did he have a dog collar on?' Gill chipped in, copper instinct couldn't let her stay silent. 'Did he show you any ID?'

Sean looked at her as if she was batty. Her eyebrows shot up and she smiled pityingly at him.

'You mean you spoke to some man you'd never seen before who told you he was the vicar, priest, minister, whatever... and you _believed _him,' she clarified and returned the look with interest. 'I take it money changed hands.'

Sean nodded. 'Gave him fifty quid.'

'Fifty quid! Ha!' Gill threw her head back in laughter. When she looked back at Sean she really did look as though she thought he hadn't two brain cells to rub together. 'When was the last time you heard of a church, or any place for that matter, that you could hire for a wedding for fifty quid?'

Sean bridled. 'Well I dunno, seemed like a bargain.'

The whole of the MIT syndicate rolled their eyes. "If it sounds too good to be true it probably is," had obviously gone right over Sean's head. Even Kevin knew that. He gave himself a mental pat on the back and an extra smirk for it. Gill shot Rachel a look. What was she doing marrying this numpty? Rachel, who was possibly the brightest DC in the Manchester Met. Police. Gill knew she could hardly claim the best taste in husbands, but at least she and Dave had been on a similar intellectual level. What the hell did those two talk about?

Rachel herself had gone silent. As Sean ran out of explanation, all eyes turned to her to see how she was taking it. Janet touched her arm gently.

'Are you all right, Rach?' Rachel absently patted her hand but continued to stare at Sean. At last she sighed and put a hand to her head. Why was she even surprised? As if she could expect to get married normally. As if she could expect Sean bloody McCartney to organise anything without cocking it up.

'Tell me exactly what happened,' she groaned.

…

'Well I was walking down to the paper shop one morning a while back cos we'd run out of milk or something. I think it was a Saturday maybe.' Resilient as a rubber ball or a four-year-old, Sean launched into his tale with all his customary enthusiasm, regardless of the fact that Rachel was now holding her head in her hands.

'And I stopped to look at this church.' Rachel opened her mouth to ask why but stopped herself. Why did anyone do anything? Especially Sean. It would only complicate matters.

'And this man comes round the corner so we get chatting. Nice fella. Said he was doing a bit of work on the place, fixing it up like. I said I was getting married soon and he asked where. So I said I hadn't got anywhere booked and he said what about that church. He took me in to talk to the priest. He was all right too. Asked a bit about us, seemed happy enough. Then he said they had a free Saturday and he named the date. Sounded good. I give him fifty quid, he did write me out a receipt, I've got it somewhere. Anyway, that was that. The place was a bit bare on the inside but he said they were having new pews delivered the next week so I didn't think anything of it.'

Having concluded his tale, Sean looked round the assembled company as if to ask – well wouldn't you have done the same thing? Not a single face agreed with him and gradually his confidence evaporated. He leaned over, reaching for Rachel's hand.

'How was I supposed to know it was dodgy?'

Rachel drew her hand back and sat up. Her face worked rapidly through about ten different expressions of disbelief and anger.

'I don't even know where to start.' She stood up. 'I'm going home. No, Sean.' She put her hand out as he stood up too. 'On my own. Without you. I need to think.' Rachel grabbed her coat and bag, downed half a glass of wine in one mouthful and stormed out of the pub. Sean stood there dithering for thirty seconds then made to go after her.

'Don't.' Janet laid her hand lightly on his arm. He realised she already had her coat on. 'Better not,' Janet advised. 'I'll go have a word with her.' She steered him gently but firmly back towards the table, made significant eyes at Gill, waved to the others and trotted out.

Sean sat down again heavily. Everyone watched him. He ran a hand through his hair. He took a long sup of his pint. He looked over to the door then down at the table. At last he looked up.

'Well we can always get somewhere else.'


End file.
